Monsters I Get
by borgmama1of5
Summary: A Variation on 'Saving People, Hunting Things'


Prompt from amberdreams (4.14 Sex and Violence)

 _Sam: You seem pretty cheery.  
Dean: Strippers, Sammy. Strippers. We're on an actual case involving strippers. Finally._

A hunt that was fuckin' easy.

The Black Dog showed up where he was supposed to—didn't have an unexpected mate—went down with a single headshot. Torched the ugly mofo and Dean hadn't even gotten his jeans dirty.

Dad won't be sending coordinates for the next job till tomorrow. Dean is on his way to enjoying tonight.

"Hey Mister."

She can't be more than sixteen, Dean thinks, and she's got to be freezing in the tiny shorts and flimsy top with only a thin sweater.

"I...can do anything you want..."

Dean shakes his head and keeps walking.

He's a few steps past when he hears an engine behind him.

"Hey, baby, we're looking for someone just like you!" "Come on in! Show us what you got!" Ugly laughter. Dean turns around, sees the girl shrinking from the car full of douches.

"Changed my mind, kid. Let's go." He walks back, stands between her and the car.

"Hey, man, we saw her first!"

Dean has no patience to argue with a car full of drunks, so he simply flicks open his jacket to let the handle of his pistol show. "Move along, boys."

He sees the driver's eyes widen and he fishtails away from the curb.

"How old are you, kid?"

"Eighteen."

The downward flick of her eyes betrays the lie.

"What's your name?"

"L...Lacey."

"Your real name?"

This time she looks at him.

"Samantha."

Dean snorts. Of course. "Well, Samantha, I'm pretty hungry and I bet you are too." He gives a regretful look at the bar he was heading toward. "Where's someplace to get a good burger around here?"

"I...I can't...I have to...If I don't bring back any money tonight …I...He's..."

"How about I pay you to keep me company while I eat? What'll that cost?"

"I can't..."

Dean carefully puts a hand on her thin shoulder. He's parked in a lot just a block away. "Let's go."

She looks scared when he opens the Impala's door and tells her to get in, but he asks her where he can get something to eat and she gives directions to an all-night diner that she says has really good French fires.

She doesn't want to order, so Dean orders two burgers with fries, coffee for himself and a milkshake for her. She hesitates a moment, then digs in with an intensity Dean knows from his own experiences with being hungry. When she slows down a little, he asks bluntly, "How long you been on the street, Samantha?"

He doesn't think she's going to answer, but finally she mumbles, "Four weeks."

"Why? You belong in school, don't tell me you're eighteen." He puts on his do-not-bullshit-me face.

"My...my parents got divorced last year...my mom got with a guy who...he was a creep and I had to get away from him and finally I just left...When I got here I didn't know where to go and a guy at the bus station offered to help me out. He did for a couple days, but then he..."

She looks down at her half-eaten burger and pushes the plate to the side.

Dean had already noted the bruises on her face poorly concealed by heavily-layered makeup and he didn't need her to finish.

"Are there other girls?"

"Yeah...Becky and Iris..."

Not your business, Dean, he can hear his dad's voice. But, dammit, as he watches Samantha pick at her fries, he knows he just can't let it go.

He has to get her someplace safe first. He doesn't have any contacts in this town, and his dad hadn't mentioned any...mentally rolling through names, Jim Murphy's gives him an idea.

"Come on," he says as he leaves money on the table when the girl is done. "I know someplace you can go."

For the first time she looks scared. "If I don't come back with two hundred dollars, Jerry's gonna...gonna be mad..."

"You give me Jerry's address. I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again."

She doesn't look like she believes him, but she follows him to the car.

It doesn't take long to spot the steeple that Dean's looking for...in fact there are two churches across from each other.

"Presbyterian or Catholic?" he asks when he's parked.

She looks at him puzzled.

"I'm gonna take you in one of these," he nods between the two choices, "and turn you over to the father, or pastor, or whoever, and tell him to get you straight. Not saying you need to go home," he responds to the panicky look on her face, "Just turning you over to someone who should know where a kid like you can get some help. Get off the street and away from guys like Jerry."

She doesn't look convinced, but nods to the church on the right side of the street. "Catholic."

Dean takes her to the side door. The priest who answers looks to be his dad's age. "Can I help you?"

"I've got a lost sheep for you," he says, remembering one of Father Jim's stories. "Was taught you guys help the ones nobody else will." He gives Samantha a nudge forward. "Samantha here needs help, she can't go home...and she don't belong on the streets. Can you find her someplace safe?"

The priest looks from Dean to the girl and opens the door wider. "You're right, son, that is our mission. Whatsoever you do for the least of my brothers..." He waits for Dean to step inside as well, but Dean shakes his head. "I got my own mission, Padre." He looks at Samantha one more time. "You're gonna be okay. Ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy, but you're better than a life on the street."

She puts her hand out tentatively and Dean shakes it. "I mean it."

"Th...thank you."

Dean pulls a u-turn in the empty street, heading to the address Samantha had given him. He has a visit to pay to Jerry, redirect him to another line of work. Forcefully.

Not all monsters are creatures.


End file.
